


Decorate Me in Lace

by nautilusrose



Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel)
Genre: Consensual Sex, F/M, Original Character(s), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautilusrose/pseuds/nautilusrose
Summary: A gift for @dellycroix on twitter, who loves Aleister. She made a lovely OC based on Irene Adler and kindly let me use her for a quick fic example.
Relationships: Jimmy A. Aleister/Original Character
Kudos: 4





	Decorate Me in Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dellycroix](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dellycroix).



What is the difference between a woman and a lady? An intelligent man would answer that the title is given by the lady (or woman) in question.

Jimmy A. Aleister is, undoubtedly, a very intelligent man. This is fortunate, as the woman (or lady) in question is an enigma even to him: Irene Adler. She’s as capricious as a summer thunderstorm and just as vibrant. She doesn’t merely keep Aleister on his toes, she keeps him dancing in a tango of wit and espionage that entangles not only Twilight but the entire London underworld. From dukes to mafia, anyone who’s anyone has heard of Irene Adler.

Which is why this afternoon is one of those visions that baffles the older gentleman (or man). Irene came in without a word and sat down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. It’s not that she’s usually unaffectionate, but the two of them have gotten into the comfortable habit of enjoying each other’s company without draping themselves on one another.

Aleister looks down to see her peaceful face, lips parted with a sigh that smells like cinnamon. Or perhaps it’s her hair that smells like cinnamon. Either way, it tickles Aleister’s nostrils as he turns to go back to his book.

She doesn’t even let Aleister read the next sentence before he feels her fingertips on his cheek, guiding him back to her. Much like the fate that befalls cat owners, Aleister realizes that he has no choice but to obey her whims. And, much like cat owners, Aleister feels the edges of his lips curl into a smile when that realization occurs.

Irene’s movements are fluid as she sits up and, without so much as looking at Aleister, begins to unbutton her blouse.

“No stays, Miss Adler?”

“I find stays to be horribly uncomfortable, Mr. A,” she replies. Irene shrugs and lets the fabric fall from her shoulders like a veil. “I do my best to remove them as soon as I can.”

“And your blouse, Miss Adler?”

“You’re making me sound like the big bad wolf,” her full lips finally give Aleister the smile he was hoping for. 

Irene tilts her head back expectantly, waiting for Aleister’s response. And why wouldn’t she? Her dark skin is radiating a warmth that would tempt the strongest man.

“Your form is perfect, Miss Adler,” says Aleister.

Irene looks at him for a moment, eyebrow quirked, before she bursts into light laughter.

“That’s the strangest way to compliment a woman’s breasts I’ve ever heard! But I suppose this ‘perfect form’ of mine makes it all the better to eat you with, my dear.”

Both Irene and Aleister have terribly dark eyes, though hers dance with mischief as she calmly puts her hand on her knee and pushes his legs apart, giving her space to kneel between them.

“You haven’t given me time to prepare,” says Aleister. “I am an old man, you know.”

“I’m all the preparation you need, haven’t you realized that by now?”

To state that Irene’s breasts were soft when she leaned forward against his crotch would be so big of an understatement that it would be insulting to both parties.

“Miss Adler…”

She smiles and sways from side to side, letting her ‘Mr. A’ feel the weight of her breasts against his tightening trousers. “Heh… some old man you are.”

Aleister lets out a low sigh before calmly shutting his book and setting it down next to him.

“You look quite satisfied with yourself, Miss Adler,” he says as he unbuttons the front of his trousers and pushes the fabric aside.

With a woman like Irene Adler in front of him, had Aleister still been in his thirties he would have likely been as rigid as a tree trunk with the way she was moving. Still, she seemed satisfied that he was only somewhat flaccid.

“Eyes on me, okay?” Irene lilts as she reaches up to snatch the book from its place next to Aleister. Not only was it a playful move, but her movement allow Aleister’s cock to be sandwiched between her breasts.

Ah, that’s what it takes. After a squeeze, Irene pulls back to look at how hard he’s gotten. With a smirk she darts her tongue out to tease his urethra, and pulls back with a crystalline thread connecting the two of them.

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“I’m afraid both of us have been rather preoccupied.”

“Shame,” says Irene. She dances her fingers along the ridges of his veins before popping her lips over the head of Aleister’s penis with a lewd slurp.

“Manners, Miss Adler—” but Aleister’s breath hitches in his throat, making Irene’s muffled laugh ring in his ears as she continues to suck.

Finally, she comes up for air with a smile. 

“Tell me, Mr. A, what is the proper etiquette for this?” She purses her lips. “Should I have kissed it first?” With a ‘mwah’, she slowly and pointedly kisses each inch of his cock, leaving a neat line of lipstick marks behind her.

Aleister slowly exhales as he feels his cock pulse.

“At this point, I believe the etiquette would be to put more of it in your mouth.”

“You believe?” Irene pushes a strand of hair behind her ear before hovering over the head, lips barely touching it.

She’s staring at him, daring him. It would be so easy for a lesser man to reach out and guide her lips to his flesh, to part her with a thrust.

But Aleister is still, meeting her eyes with his own. He doesn’t take the bait.

“Perfect form, Mr. A…”

Aleister’s posture relaxes a touch as she finally wraps her lips around him, humming lightly as they slide over his veins and take his heat deeper into her mouth. Hardly any of her lipstick is on her lips at this point, and Aleister can’t help but admire the patterns she made as her head begins to bob up and down.

Then he throbs, and Aleister’s mouth sets as he begins to concentrate.

Irene pulls back, smiling at him. “Trying to hang on?”

“I haven’t had trouble like this for many years…”

“You just need to be re-trained. I’ve neglected you for too long.”

Aleister tilts his head. “Am I the one being neglected?”

Irene smiles and wraps her hand around his cock. “From the way you’re twitching I’d say yes.”

“Should I remind you of your position at this moment?”

This makes Irene laugh, her rich voice echoing through the room. “You say that like you wouldn’t love to switch places!”

Aleister bows his head, a smirk crossing his features. “My lady…”

She begins to pump him, satisfied with his answer.

“Come on, then,” she says. “I want you to decorate my tattoo like lace!”

Aleister looks down at the tattoo on her chest, how it perfectly frames her breasts like ironworks—

With a spurt, Aleister’s décor lands perfectly between those breasts: one, two, three! He lets out a long sigh as Irene watches the remnants dribble from his urethra and land on the carpet.

Her lips twitch as she mutters: “That had better not stain…”

“Priorities, Miss Adler,” his voice is only a little ragged, but it’s enough for the lady (or woman) to be confident in her victory.

“Priorities indeed, Mr. A,” she says, before leaning forward to give his drooping tip a loving kiss.


End file.
